Sun parts clouds, dispelling mist in blue-green
Incandescent tropical heat, vanishing
After a few sweat-filled moments. Clouds
Drift across the high mountain sun.
Walk the path lined with wolfberry, twisted,
Blackened, like remnants of rained out
Old burning bushes, cholla reaches out
Balls of thorn, ready to jump and seize
Shoes, pant legs, the back of your hand,
Clinging like old sins. Cottontails hold
Motionless, wet fur steaming in the sun,
Confident, for a rabbit, in their invisibility,
Agility, and speed. Pinon jays laugh down
The arroyo, quail call over the hill. Honey
Scent of sweet fern, aroma of dry grass
Wet by the long-awaited rain. Clouds
Mingle influences, breeze quiet, mist
Rising after summer rain.
Author: Duncan MacNae
Exiled Gael, scion of the Dust Bowl, dweller within Divine Grace, admirer of mountains, I have made my peace with trout and the starlings. Looking for a river and healing trees.
duncanmacduncan5@gmail.com
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